‘A Good Deed'! !
Pebbles and her hero friend were in shock,
When they called at the local pet shop.
Lip-More and his pal' were enraged,
Seeing all those animals caged.
Some thing had to be done,
So the pair hatched a cunning plan.!
Lip-More didn't need any one else for the job,
He trusted his mate Pebbles the Dog.
In and out, SAS style, during the daylight Sun,
All was prepared for operation ‘freedom'.
Suddenly the job came around too soon,
Then the operation was on one afternoon.
They causally entered the shop door,
Masks and Capes were worn by Pebbles and Lip-more.
Our hero, his crow bar was ready knowing what he had to do,
Pebbles had practiced her vital job too.
She snarled her teeth and kept the staff at bay,
Whilst Lip-More, the cage latches he started to bray.
She barked and growled like a ‘wind up' torch a bit,
Lip-More continued to liberate each cage and cabinet.
There was one hell of a noisy racket,
Squawks, barks, meows, hisses and a swearing parrot.
Pebbles was doing her part and kept her cool,
Some of the staff tried to run but Pebbles was no fool.
She headed them off and stood at the door,
None of them dared to try any more.!
Lip-More completely emptied the place,
He double checked every cage and case.
Our hero wished the shop staff 'good day',
Pebbles ‘marked' her patch which was the same in a way.!
Out the door, the ‘pets' were now running free,
Hamsters, Guinea Pigs, and reptiles fled from captivity.
Pebbles lead the charge of freedom on to the streets,
Followed be Parrots, Budgies, Canaries and Ferrets.
Snakes slithered as fast as they could along the ground,
Above were Parakeets and Macaws each with a screeching sound.
Along with Gerbils, Mice, Dogs and Rats,
Love birds, Stick insects, and baby Cats.
Spiders spun webs as they fled,
The reptiles stopped awhile in the Sun and smiled instead.
Pebbles rallied the animals and orchestrated,
With her barks, growls and tail she directed.
Lip-More redirected the traffic,
So the animals wouldn't get harmed.
And reassured the worried public.
Some were getting quite alarmed.
After all there were creepy crawlies around their feet,
Snakes and Rats on the street.
Lip-More still was directing the traffic,
He said to Pebbles 'You've been terrific.'
Our hero had set up road blocks,
Pebbles hurried along the herds and flocks.
The animals were jumping, flying and crawling free,
Scattering in to the wild and liberty.
Pebbles and Lip-more stood at the top of Concord,
As all the animals ran to freedom down the road.
Pebbles and Lip-More stood. chins in the air so proud,
Lip-More picked up his pal' and shouted 'freedom' so loud.
Pebbles looked at him as if to say; 'Job well done, '! !
Lip-more said, 'Yep we pulled it off, it was a good one.'
Pebbles rejoiced with some beef and cheese,
Lip-More raised a glass of Rum and said, 'Cheers.'
poem by Guy Lipmore
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Related quotes
Walk of Life
Grandpa! Your walking stick knows how many pebbles that you hit?
But the pebbles never hit you on your walkover.
*Some unsophisticated friends are like that.
poem by Nimal Dunuhinga
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Words Like Pebbles
Words like pebbles
Thrown down a pond
Will cause some ripples
That go around.
Words like pebbles
Never come back
They sink in people
That they attack.
Words can create
A thousand circles,
Pain resonates
As hurts unfurl.
Words released
Like pebbles drown;
The friendships cease
As they go down.
Hold your words
Hide your pebbles
You cannot afford
To cause the ripples.
The pond is calm
So be blessed
Be friendship's balm
Speak what is best.
'Reckless words pierce like a sword, but the tongue of the wise
brings healing.'
Proverbs 12: 18
-
Copyright Cynthia Buhain-Baello
Written May 11,2009 Tarlac City Philippines
poem by Cynthia Buhain-Baello
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Pebbles & Stones
Pebbles and stones,
Of different tones.
Oval or Round.
Black or Brown.
Smooth or rough
Oddly enough,
People collect
pebbles and stones.
They like to select
the smooth and round.
They like to select,
if it's shiny and brown.
Do you like pebbles too?
Or stones in black and blue?
Willow Tree
Let me be your weeping willow tree
Surround you with my long limbs
My dear, let me grow in the shade
In the sands by the bank of your river
Let I drink from your streams
The cool breeze fill my leaves
We will sing together
Water over the pebbles
And Ill be by your side forever
I wish I was a weeping willow tree
I wish I was a weeping willow tree
I wish I was a weeping willow tree
Sweet river caress how softly
Stir my searching roots
Shading the sun in the summers heat
Let I cool you
We have been dancing so long
In the winters freeze and the summers drought
We survive
We belong
Let us sing together
Water over the pebbles
And Ill be by your side forever
I wish I was your weeping willow tree
I wish I was a weeping willow tree
I wish I was a weeping willow tree
Let us sing together
Water over the pebbles
And Ill be by your side forever
Let us sing together
Water over the pebbles
And Ill be by your side forever
We can sing together
Water over the pebbles
And Ill be by your side forever
Let me be
Your willow tree
Your willow tree
song performed by by G. Love & Special Sauce
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Pebbles And Marbles
She started a blaze from one tiny spark
I didn't even detect
She loved the light, was dismayed by the dark
The stars, though, she seemed to respect
The faint light that flutters at night to the Earth
Would land in her eyes and collect
Luminous creatures she'd find in the surf
I never thought to inspect
Pebbles and marbles, like things on my mind
Seem to get lost and harder to find
When I am alone, I am inclined
If I find a pebble in the sand
To think that it fell from my hand
She gave me ideas, planted the seed
But she never stopped to reflect
The course that she's on, wherever it leads
I never would redirect
Pebbles and marbles, like words from a friend
Make us hold tight, but are lost in the end
When we're alone, we all seem to tend
If we find a marble in the dust
To wish someone left it for us
Pebbles and marbles, like things on my mind
Seem to get lost and harder to find
When I am alone, I am inclined
If I find a pebble in the sand
To wish that it fell from my hand
Pebbles and marbles, like things on my mind...
song performed by by Phish
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Thirsty Crow
Have you ever heard this story before?
Of a wise and clever thirsty crow?
Well, if you haven't then listen
The famous tale of this hero, now let's begin,
It happened when in a spell of dry weather,
The poor birds could find very little water,
This crow, when he felt thirsty,
Searched for some water desperately,
But in summer, as it was great famine,
Even a dropp of water he couldn't find,
This unfortunate fellow thought that he must,
In despair surely die of thirst,
Then suddenly he spied an old pitcher,
Filled with very little water,
But oh! The pitcher was so high with a narrow neck,
The little water, the poor crow could never get,
He was unlucky, thought the crow,
His beak couldn't reach the water as it was low,
Then suddenly a brilliant idea flashed into his mind,
Around him some pebbles he could find,
He picked some pebbles and threw into the pitcher,
And finally the water raised its level,
This clever fellow then threw more pebbles
Until the water was higher in the pitcher,
Higher enough for his beak to reach the water,
The thirsty crow now took a sip of water,
Then drank more water from the pitcher,
Until he was no more thirsty,
The genius crow then flew away,
To tell the world about his victory!
poem by Sadia Maqsood
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Pebbles
The pebble I once tossed
Made ripples in the pool
Like gross word heard by all
Which made some quite so crossed
Tells me I'm such a fool
The pebbles in the sand
That I threw there to lie
Like half-truths that slipped by
Due to my sleight of hand
Might haunt me till I die
The pebbles in the grass
I scattered on the lawn
Like faults I left to spawn
Are now back doubly crass
And much flak it has drawn.
poem by Reyvrex Questor Reyes
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Pebble Justice
he picks up a pebble
and throws it into the sea
from a cliff
he asks: this is not a place
for pebbles
so this is not a pebble
i will return it to the sea
and be with the sands
and shells and
waves and winds
and seaweeds
and crabs
does he not wonder at all
if he has the power to decide where a pebble must be?
sometimes people assume so much
behaving like a god
must he think a little deeper and realize
that what is proper for the people is not proper for a pebble
that pebbles too have minds of their own
and who know if the same pebble to thinks
that the cliff is not the place of man
assuming to be its own god?
must he be considerate enough that pebbles too have
their own invisible feet
and well developed brains
and that when the man throws it into the sea
on the ground only of
impropriety
that the pebble may have objected it vehemently and could have
used its own hidden powers
but only that it did not show it
by reason of pity that this man
is so dumb
and so limited
in the flesh of its
own selfish
understanding?
does he not know that a pebble too demands respect
have privacy
and soon shall take its
inevitable revenge?
'bury mankind! they have thrown us away
without our consent' that is their clamor now
in their own
Pebble Court using their Pebble law
to be judged later
by their Pebble Magistrates.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Love In The Air
The moonlight shimmered on the water
of a small woodland stream.
We sit on the bank,
watching moonbeams dancing
on the growing ripples on the water,
from the pebbles that we throw.
The sound of the wise old owl,
and the rustle of the leaves
ruffled by the breeze.
The plop of our pebbles
dropping into the stream,
and our two hearts beating,
as we sit together
with arms around one another
underneath the moon.
We sit there enjoying
the love that is in the air.
24 June 2007
poem by David Harris
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One Hundred Ripples
One hundred ripples I mark today
One hundred steps along my way
One hundred steps lead to the pond
One hundred trees there do surround
One hundred birds nesting among the trees
One hundred bees filling the air with these
One hundred bees buzzing about in the air
One hundred flowers are pollinating there
One hundred flowers provide the aromas sweet
For one hundred bouquets given to lovers as treat
One hundred lovers walk the winding pathway
One hundred times to find romance there each day
One hundred times they will reach to explore
One hundred pebbles found along the pond shore
One hundred pebbles carry wishes through the air
One hundred ripples on surface creating there
One hundred ripples then spreading out will begin
One hundred waves soon lapping at the shore again
One hundred waves providing the means for
One hundred more pebbles to reach the shore
One hundred pebbles scatter along the pathway
One hundred steps retraced at the end of the day
One hundred small steps... this latest poem was conceived to denote
One hundred little ripples... spreading from 100 poems I wrote
poem by Mary Havran
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Communion
my feet shall tread upon grass
the grass spreads upon a topping of pebbles
the pebbles plunge on the river
the banks keep the stretch
until it reaches the mouth of the sea
and the sea spreads its arms all throughout the
continents of the earth's bodily contours
with the winds that takes the clouds with them
drifting along the curves of mountains and its peaks
until it communes with the myriad shining stars
at night with you
my world has become complete
warm and lovely
in communion with your
body and soul
i have become so full.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Pre-Existence
I laid me down upon the shore
And dreamed a little space;
I heard the great waves break and roar;
The sun was on my face.
My idle hands and fingers brown
Played with the pebbles grey;
The waves came up, the waves went down,
Most thundering and gay.
The pebbles, they were smooth and round
And warm upon my hands,
Like little people I had found
Sitting among the sands.
The grains of sands so shining-small
Soft through my fingers ran;
The sun shone down upon it all,
And so my dream began:
How all of this had been before;
How ages far away
I lay on some forgotten shore
As here I lie to-day.
The waves came shining up the sands,
As here to-day they shine;
And in my pre-pelasgian hands
The sand was warm and fine.
I have forgotten whence I came,
Or what my home might be,
Or by what strange and savage name
I called that thundering sea.
I only know the sun shone down
As still it shines to-day,
And in my fingers long and brown
The little pebbles lay.
poem by Frances Darwin Cornford
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Conceit and Deceit
what i have in my hands
are only stones
if you search for more
pebbles
my mind can give you
but first
you must entice me
with a flower in your hand
for you to have stones
that soon will grow you
some leaves of sand
that soon shall show you
how pebbles can be flowers
too
what you have are only
flowers
a little bit lighter than
the twigs of their source
what i have in my hands
are pebble that give us weight
yes, weight is wisdom
and they are all stones
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Observations Of The Man With A Broken Heart Spending Summer In A Getaway Beach
mother finally decided
to transfer his son to another
school in the busy city
there was something that she saw
and she did not like it
the son knows it
but like her says nothing about it
all the people saw it
but no one dares to mention it
taboos are silent pebbles
gritting to the coldness of the waves
not hurting to the eyes
but the ears are intolerant
it is during summer
that the pebbles begin to wear their angry eyes
the sands borrow the glitter of diamonds
the air is humid like a frigid woman
the trees shed off leaves
and grasses begin to wilt
the sea in its silence
has told more stories than the babbling kid
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Cart, Carter and a Carte Blanche!
He collects pebbles into his dilapidated cart
The plastic red bucket perhaps from a junk yard it seems
And luckily no license needs for the unending road?
I asked him; 'Papa! Why all these pebbles? '
'Yes I understand and everybody asks the same question,
Certainly I pass this clue and do not bother please!
I make my own tomb with the help of these round stones
And this white blank paper which I have signed below
That's for my humble epitaph and I hope you finish it? '
Yes I do Papa! ; 'Some collect bare lands for future prospects
And some collect money for pleasure but very few
Those who collect friends and that's why I scribbled few lines hereto! '
(To Mr. Patrick Gabriel)
poem by Nimal Dunuhinga
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Collecting Pebbles
It was from the sands of a windswept beach
I picked up pebbles that were easy to reach.
They had attracted my attention while walking by
their coloured well formed shape caught the eye.
There were so many to choose from I had to decide
in selecting those which my fancy would coincide.
It’s truly amazing what some people see in stone
a subject in which a lot of our imagination is prone.
It was almost as if I’d found treasure on the seashore
and couldn’t help myself as I looked around for more.
The simple joy of collecting something that attracts the mind
is an age old activity which all people do have of some kind.
There were the questions of how many would I take
and what, if anything with them, one could make?
They were so abundant and all varied mostly in size
that it wasn’t hard to imagine an object or visualize.
It was also only the first location at which I found
that I thought surely there must be others around.
So with a sense of adventure I looked forward to explore
another beach while making my way home along the shore.
There were several other stops made further on the way
collecting various coloured pebbles amidst the sea spray.
Many times would I get my sandals wet along that coast
going amongst rocks and sand to the waters edge at most.
It was with a sense of gain and loss then after I’d taken enough
deciding right there and then to stop collecting which was tough.
The next step would be to think about and see what I would do
with all those beautiful pebbles gathered while passing through.
Maybe I could approach someone with the right flair and skill
who could make something with them and imagination fulfill.
That natural forming eroding action of water, ice, wind and sand
rarely requires the finishing touches of some other skillful hand.
Perhaps in fashioning some jewellery using metal to bind
a few pebbles together that are different or a similar kind.
Or maybe I could just keep some myself and give the rest away
a gesture of friendship toward which our memories would play.
Yes it was from the sands of many a windswept lonely beach
I came accross and collected pebbles that were within reach.
Isn’t it truly amazing what some people see in stone?
a subject in which much of our imagination is prone.
poem by George Krokos
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Baby
in my world
all things move
like creepers
like strawberry
tendrils
on a very
wide field
it rains all day
but all possibilities grow here
like seeds
i like sunshine
the warmth of its kindness
but i dispensed with it
i love
the pebbles drenched with
rain
they are mute
but the have learned the silence
of their songs
in my world
i am just one of the possibilities
i am a seed
but i may decide not to grow
i may simply be
one of the pebbles that learned to love
the silence of their songs
i like it here
thick and covered
dark and damp.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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The Poems Flutter
Along each river in thousands are the ditches,
And the dungeons that conceals the objects,
Thousands of things hidden to the human eyes.
Man in fact is a brimming river wide and deep,
Thousands of ditches hide secrets countless;
As pebbles, sand, stones dwell in the bottom,
Covered with the opaque oozy settling layers.
I bring out those pebbles, sand and stones,
To construct, erect the castle with thick walls,
Where nestle themselves poems mysterious,
And often flutter; flap there from one by one.
poem by Muhammad Shanazar
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O' Dear Pebble
the elephants cannot walk over you
the birds and the worth of words over you
but in case they do, careful they ought to be
for yours is the flower that blossom
that which no man can see that either
can them that otherwise not known to you
for you is the strength of mine hands
and so it goes the pebble on my palm
that my eyes caught by the pebbles
and caught by the words
you uttered o' dear pebble
the words you made me walk in thought
the answers some i did not
have until on my hand i picked you
the dances on my palm caught me
dancing to the music
i barely could hear
not that i could not
but the rhythm i tell you
was the soul to my heart in talk
and so were that man that walked their path
that man that looks their path
to see where next to foot step
and endorse my foot print
on the yards of the pebbles
as i lifted my head too
in talk to mine with you
but was in thought of memory
since i had long taken you back home
to see you next in the next day
of existence
as i hope to not to die tonight
rather see you before if i do
for i so in dire need to see you
o' dear pebble of my hand
opn12092012/2154
poem: o' dear pebble
poet: onalethuso petruss ntema
book title: the pebbles
© september 2012
book no.10 of 2012
ntema's unique poetry (nup)
email: opncompanies.bw2gmail.com
poem by Onalethuso Petruss Ntema
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My life is full of mistakes. They're like pebbles that make a good road.
quote by Beatrice Wood
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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